


Of all the gin joints in all the towns in all the multiverse

by louciferish (orphan_account)



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Asexual Rey, Bullying, Foster Care, M/M, Rey/Finn sibling relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-22
Updated: 2016-01-22
Packaged: 2018-05-15 14:24:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5788711
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/louciferish
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A single continuous story about Our Heroes, told through the lens of multiple alternative universes.</p><p>Each chapter takes place in a different universe, but reinterprets one of nine key points I isolated from the film.</p><p>All universes are listed in the tags, but other tags (including pairings, warnings, etc) will be added as the chapters are added.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of all the gin joints in all the towns in all the multiverse

**Author's Note:**

> With credit to Rachel, who asked "Are they just going to be random snippets, or will you use them to tell a cohesive story?" and gave me this idea.
> 
> Summary of the overall AU chapter one is a snippet of: Finn and Rey are just a couple of foster kids from the wrong side of town when Mayor Organa and her husband Han decide to take them in. It could be the opportunity of a lifetime, but changing schools in the middle of your junior year is rarely easy, especially when you add in a school rivalry that goes way beyond the athletic fields.
> 
> Tags relevant to this chapter: Foster Care, bullying, asexual Rey, Rey/Finn sibling relationship, Poe/Finn, high school AU

The sidewalks are still icy slick in spots from days of snow cycling through melt and refreeze, Finn’s new snow boots are at least half a size too big and rubbing a raw wound on his left ankle, and one strap on his hand-me-down backpack is frayed to the thinness of a spiderweb, but he still tries to - cautiously - kick his heels up during the half mile walk to Ileenium High. 

“What are you prancing around for?” Rey asks, walking confidently by him despite the treacherous surface. “You’re going to fall and bust your ass on your first day.”

“Excuse me? Did you not read the student handbook last night?” Rey’s only response is a head toss that Finn is _pretty sure_ means she’s also rolling her eyes at him. “If this place has half the programs it claims to it will still be miles better than Starkiller was. There’s supposed to be a ton of specialization and the class sizes are _tiny_. How could I not be excited?”

“I just don’t think high school matters that much,” Rey says with a shrug. “I’d rather have just stayed at one school this year, kept my head down, got my piece of paper, and left. It doesn’t matter what name is on the diploma.”

“You watch,” Finn says, shielding his eyes from the snow glare to piece together the looming shape of the school building. “This school is going to be totally worth moving for.”

-

By the lunch bell, Finn has managed to find four classrooms without getting lost, added three more books to his backpack, been offered a mid-season try-out with the baseball team by the head coach during gym, and been shoved in three lockers, two doors, and a running shower.

He starts off the lunch break with a trip to the nurse’s office to see if he can bum some aspirin for the developing bruises, but the nurse just shakes her head sadly and sends him back out into the hall with a couple brown paper towels to pat his damp shirt with.

Rey’s face is inches away from the table, tinkering with something on her phone when he dumps his backpack on a chair and flops down, and she doesn’t even look up. “Still worth moving for?” she asks. 

“It’ll pay off. I mean, they can’t keep this up forever, right?” Rey looks up from her phone, and simply raises an eyebrow. “Maybe,” he says, sliding his hand over his face. “I think, at least. Are you getting this shit too?”

“Not really,” she flips the phone over and removes the battery cover, then pulls one of the pins from her hair and starts poking around. “Like I said, I’m just here to keep my head down and pass the classes.”

“Sure, but are you going to be able to keep your head down after school?”

“Why,” Rey asks, using one side of the pin as a screwdriver. “What’s after school?”

Finn feels the corners of his mouth twitch, unable to hold back his secret weapon. “Auto shop club.”

Rey doesn’t quite snap the pin off in the back of her phone, but it’s a near thing. She looks Finn straight in the eyes, though. “There’s an _auto shop club_?”

-

Three classes, two more lockers, and one desk later (right in the gut, which had _really_ hurt), the school day comes to an end with a peppy rendition of the Ileenium Rebels’ fight song over the intercoms. Finn narrowly sidesteps a shove into the door of his English class on the way out, and finally manages to locate his locker. When he jimmies it open, there’s already a folded slip of white paper inside that just says “GO HOME TROOPER SCUM” in thick red letters. He dumps the books he won’t need tonight on top of it, and slams the locker shut.

His next stop is the bathroom, not to pee, but to wait. He lounges around by the sinks, and washes his hands four times as people come in and then leave. When the janitor rolls in with a squeaky yellow mop bucket, Finn throws on his backpack, tells him to have a good night, and heads out into the deserted halls.

He’s already walked a block back to the house when he notices something red and white jerked back behind a garage ahead of him. He folds his arms across his chest and glances at the road for traffic to see if it’s safe to cross the street. That’s when something hits him from behind, sending him stumbling off the sidewalk to land on his knees in a fragrant puddle of pavement oils and snow melt.

Before he can struggle to his feet, someone grabs his backpack to haul him up, and he hears the rip of the worn strap as it finally gives up. There are three guys in a tight V formation, all of them wearing bulky red Ileenium Rebels letter jackets. Finn combs through his memories rapidly, but he can’t place any of the faces, doesn’t know if he met them in a class or bumped into them in the halls. The blond guy who grabbed him rips his backpack off easily with the shredded strap and tosses it into the snowbank, then seizes the front of his coat.

“My friends and I saw you walking around today and thought you might be lost,” the guy sneers. “ _Starkiller_.”

“Uh, nah,” Finn says, brushing off the front of his coat nervously. “Nope. Definitely just walking home from school. I’m new to the neighborhood, so I appreciate the help, but-”

“But nothing,” the guy interrupts, shaking Finn hard enough his head snaps back. “You don’t belong here, and we don’t want you eating our food or breathing our air, much less _joining our team_ , you get me?”

“Yup,” Finn nods, making his neck ache. “Perfectly clear. I’m allowed to join in _any_ of the reindeer games.”

One of the other guys snorts, and blondie’s scowl deepens. “I’m not sure you do understand, so you know what? We’re going to make this lesson extra permanent.”

Finn’s anticipating the punch, so when the guy wheels back his arm, Finn drops in his grip. His coat, bought last season by a family that clearly expected him to grow much faster, is baggy enough that he manages to slip down into it, but then he’s caught on his knees, with the thick fabric covering his face and hands, and he has time for one quick thought - the realization that _I did not think this through_ before he hears the sound of muffled shouting.

He’s pulled forward, and the coat slips off over his head, but when he looks up all he sees are three unintelligible white-lettered surnames emblazoned on the back of three red jackets running in the other direction - fast. And one of them is still trailing Finn’s black coat along behind him.

“Hey,” Finn spins around and there’s another damn letter jacket guy behind him, but this one has his hand out to Finn and just asks, “Are you okay?”

Finn takes the proffered hand and gets pulled his feet abruptly. He finds himself standing mere inches from kind brown eyes that are searching his face from under a head of soft-looking black curls. “Um, fine,” Finn says. “Yeah, I’m cool.” 

He takes a quick step back and the cold hits him all over like a wave. He looks down at himself, suddenly very conscious that his khakis are ripped and soaked from the knee down and his only coat is rapidly receding into the distance with some jerk who probably has _ten_ goddamn coats at his house. 

“Sorry about those assholes,” nice letter jacket dude says. “What the hell was their problem with you?”

Finn feels his back muscles beginning to tense. “I’m a new transfer student,” he says. The guy’s expression doesn’t change, so he adds, “I used to go to Starkiller. My sister and I just started at Ileenium today.”

“Ah,” understanding dawns in the guy’s face, followed by dismay. “Well… Welcome to Ileenium, I guess? Sorry again.”

Finn’s shoulders drop. “Yeah, I guess.”

“Some people take high school way too seriously, man.” The guy sticks his hand out again. “I’m Poe, Poe Dameron.”

Finn takes his hand and says, “F-Finn,” but he stutters, caught in a shiver mid-word as the January wind hits him again. 

Poe’s eyes widen, and he pulls at his letter jacket, popping the snaps down the front with one yank. Before Finn can say anything, he’s pulled it off and shoved it into Finn’s chest. It feels really warm. “No man,” Finn says. “I can’t take that. Then _you’ll_ be cold.”

“Take it,” Poe insists. “Just for now, as an apology on behalf of the school. Besides everyone tells me I’ve very hot-blooded.” He wiggles his eyebrows in a very exaggerated way, and winks, and Finn takes the blood red jacket from him with a laugh, and slips it on. It smells familiar, probably the same brand of deodorant Finn has at home or something.

Then Poe’s eyes catch on the black lump in the snow bank next to them. “Was that yours too?”

“Yeah,” Finn sighs. “Damn. Books are probably all wet.”

Poe pulls the mangled bag from the snow and inspects it carefully. “Well, the bag’s not going to hold together much, but I think the insides are okay.” He pulls the textbooks and spirals out into a neat stack, and then presses them into his chest. “No big deal. I’ll carry them for you.”

Finn feels his face heat up. “No, man, it’s okay-”

“Just this once,” Poe interrupts. “It’s the least I can do.”

“You gave me your _jacket_ ,” Finn insists. 

“And now I’m going to carry your books. And walk you home. And you’re going to let me.”

Finn rolls his eyes, and exaggerates a sigh, but then says, “Okay, come on. We might as well go all the way.”

“My goodness,” Poe says, “This is so sudden.” But after a few steps, he suddenly stops walking, and Finn looks back at him. “Wait, is your sister getting home okay?”

“Oh yeah, don’t worry” Finn says. “She can take care of herself.”


End file.
